A/N: Thank yous to Team Spiderward for all you do. xx
Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight. The NHL owns anything that sounds familiar. I'm here having fun.
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Chapter 48
Sinking into the cushions of the couch next to Scout and Shadow on Saturday night, I'm ready to watch Edward's game when my phone vibrates with an incoming call. One glance at the screen and I answer it immediately.
"Leah!"
"Hey, girl."
"This is a wonderful surprise. How are you doing?"
"Oh, Bella. Honestly, I'm so ready for another escape."
"Get on a plane and fly here now," I request with a chuckle.
"Don't tempt me. I have an offer for your dad's house and sent it to him. I'm keeping my fingers crossed it will be acceptable. Maybe after I close that deal, I'll escape . . . permanently."
I gasp. "You're moving?"
"I think I'm done with Forks and all the cool people I know live in Dallas anyway," Leah teases.
I laugh. "If you're serious about moving, you're welcome to stay with us until you figure out your next plans. We have room."
"Bella, you're a saint. Thank you. I'll keep that in mind and let you know. What are you doing home on a Saturday night or are you wrapped around Edward as we speak? You don't sound breathless. So, clearly, I'm not interrupting anything good."
"Edward is at work. I'm watching his game from home since I'm overdue for an easy night. It's been quite the week," I explain.
"I'll say. I can't believe I'm talking with a married woman now. Your mom called mine to share the news."
"Right?" My thumb fidgets with my wedding rings as they sparkle in the light. "It's starting to sink in. I'm just so damn happy, it's ridiculous. Edward too."
"That's wonderful. Congratulations," Leah says sincerely.
"Thanks."
She clears her throat. "How-how has Vladdy been doing? I was thinking about him the other day."
"Oh, Leah."
"What?"
"He was traded and moved with his family to Florida," I reveal.
"You're kidding."
"No, I'm not."
"Well, damn. Is the trade a good thing?" she asks.
"At this point, I don't know. So, what are you doing at home on a Saturday night?" I prompt.
"Drinking wine, licking my wounds, and feeling sorry for myself."
"Oh, I miss wine. What happened?"
"I'll drink a glass for you," Leah promises. "How's the pregnancy going?"
"Are you avoiding my question? What happened?" I repeat.
"Isaac happened."
"Pastor Isaac?"
"Yeah. He's a picket fence kind of guy and . . . that's not me. I'm done. I need to pull my shit together, get out of this town, and stop making a fool out of myself, pretending to be someone I'm not. I wish I could get on a plane tonight, leave, and never come back, but there's Mom and Seth. Fucking Billy Black and his goddamn son. And my house. Fuck. It's so charming. I hate to leave it, but I don't think it's me anymore. Can you fall out of love with a house?"
"Absolutely. Maybe you've outgrown it," I suggest, ignoring the part about Jacob. Maybe if I do, he will go away and finally leave her alone.
"I feel more love for this house than I've ever felt for any man. Wow, that's really saying something, isn't it?"
"It sounds as if you're ready to start a new chapter."
"Maybe it's actually time for a whole new fucking book," Leah concludes.
"Could be. You can go with me to Houston on the weekends and stay with us at the ranch. It's such an incredible place. I guarantee it will heal all that ails you," I promise.
"I can smell the leather, horses, and whiskey from here. Finding my way around a ranch hand or two—God, that sounds perfect. I bet it's warm and dry there. The opposite of here. What if I just donate all my clothes and buy new ones there? I can live in plaid shirts, jeans, and boots." She laughs. "Rent my house—no sell my house fully furnished and not move a damn thing. I don't know why I like that idea so much. It's such a bad financial decision, but I'm past the point of caring."
I chuckle.
"Bella, am I really doing this?" Leah asks hopefully.
"If that's what you want, why wait?"
"Exactly. Why wait? I can always visit Mom and Seth or they can come visit me," she reasons. "Okay. Serious question."
"Go."
"Is this me running away from my problems?"
I remember asking myself the same thing when I was considering my move to Texas, but after I did it, I never looked back. The move healed me in all the right ways, and it's where I found my husband. I have zero regrets about that.
"Not if you're running toward something better," I reply. "Sometimes a fresh start can work wonders."
"Holy shit. I can't believe I'm actually considering this." Leah laughs nervously. "I don't know whether to look into flights or homes first. My savings will probably last a while, but I'll need to transfer my real estate license and find someone to help me break into the market there."
"If there's anything we can do to help, let me know," I offer.
"Thank you. I think . . . . my Saturday night is taking a turn in a positive direction, and I have plans to make." She lets out an excited squeak. "Yay!"
"I'm happy for you, Leah. We'll talk soon," I promise.
"You're damn right we will." She chuckles. "Enjoy watching your game. I wish I was on the couch next to you. Maybe I'll be able to make that a reality soon. Tell Edward I said hello and give him my congratulations on marrying the most amazing woman."
"Awww, you're too sweet."
"Said no one ever."
"But I'll remind him daily. How about that?" I glance at Scout who is watching me.
"Sounds like a plan. I'll be in touch. Have a good night, Bella."
"You too, Leah."
Once I end my call with Leah, Scout raises his head.
"That was good news. It sounds as if Leah could be moving to Dallas. I don't know when, but it's still exciting. How is the game going?"
Scout lowers his head, resting it against my thigh before his eyes close. I stroke his fur and watch, noticing it's still scoreless in the first period.
"I know it's not the intermission yet and I said I would wait, but are we hungry?" Scout's eyes open and he sits up. I think he knows the word hungry. "Well, not you. You are such a foodie, and do I need to remind you that you already ate? I'm hungry. What sounds good? What would I get at the concession stand if I was there? Popcorn? A soft pretzel? Some nachos? They sound the best, but we probably don't have everything for those. And I could use another bathroom break. I should start there."
Scout follows me to the bathroom, waiting outside the door patiently until I finish, then back to the kitchen. Considering my options, I open and close the cabinets, grabbing a spoon and scraping out the last of my hazelnut spread.
"This is sad," I tell Scout, pitching the container. "Why is there never enough of the good things in life?"
Perusing the refrigerator and freezer, I'm skeptical when I find a frozen pizza. It must somehow be healthy. After reading the label, I find its flaw.
"Cauliflower crust," I share. "That's some shady shit." But I preheat the oven anyway before gathering everything for a grilled cheese.
As I set out the bread and butter, I detour from the standard cheese slices we have, grabbing the cream cheese, shredded cheddar cheese, a fresh jalapeño, and . . . I glance at Scout.
"We might as well go all the way. Right?" Reaching for the precooked bacon, he lets out a whine of appreciation. "I doubt we're breaking any new food barriers here, but Pumpkin wants a spicy jalapeño popper style grilled cheese and that's what we're making."
Grabbing a pan, I turn on the flame, letting it heat up while I build my sandwich in the pan. My mouth waters as the butter sizzles.
"I'm almost as bad as you. This looks good," I say proudly, while it cooks. "Let's hope I can wait long enough for it to cool so I don't burn my mouth."
Reaching for an extra slice of bacon, I tear it in half, feed Scout half, and devour the other half.
"Aren't we a pair?"
He looks on, shifting back and forth before sitting patiently, despite being eager for more as he licks his lips.
Once the bread is perfectly golden brown, I flip my sandwich and the cheese begins to ooze. When it's ready, I move my creation onto a plate, cutting it in half. Before leaving the kitchen, I unwrap the pizza, then carefully slide it onto the rack in the oven.
"Hopefully, that doesn't make a mess, but they're so much better baking them directly on the rack. If there's any hope for this pizza, that will be its saving grace."
After setting the oven timer, I grab a napkin and my sandwich, returning to the couch to catch up on the game with Scout never far from my side while Shadow can't be bothered to move. Even though it's the intermission, I listen to the announcers analyze the still scoreless game while savoring every delicious bite.
"That turned out better than I thought it would," I tell Scout, wiping my hands with the napkin, then setting my empty plate on the coffee table.
Scout leaves an appreciative lick on my hand while my phone vibrates with another incoming call.
Jason.
After muting the television, I answer his call. "Hello, Jason."
"Hello, Bella."
"No, Dr. Swan this evening?" He's normally more formal with me and his greetings.
He chuckles. "We're after hours. At least for you. I'm still on the clock doing your bidding, but do you have time for a conversation this evening?"
"I do. I'm at home watching Edward's game."
"Oh? How are you doing?"
Of course, he doesn't ask about the game, but me instead.
"I'm good. I've cooled off a little in my anger since I called you yesterday. And you?"
"I'm working on a Saturday night. That should tell you all you need to know," Jason confides.
"When was the last time you took a vacation? It sounds as if you could be overdue," I suggest.
"Uh . . . I can't recall any recent trips as you're probably referring to. Deidre always schedules vacation time and forces me to stay out of the office. She threatened to have the locks changed one year, but I just work from home."
"Always finding a way around the system, aren't you?" I tease.
"It's my niche. Do what you know best—isn't that what they say?"
"I hope you have good news for me," I encourage.
"You . . . have found yourself in quite an interesting situation, haven't you? And I seriously doubt you don't already know the answers to the questions you left for me. You're too smart for that."
"What did you find?" I'm eager to hear his confirmations.
"Mmm-hmm. I have found a common . . . theme or I should say person to answer most of your questions."
"Tell me who."
"The one and only, Royce King, Sr," Jason responds.
"Oh?"
"Please, try to sound more surprised," he requests with another chuckle.
"I'm not an actress. I'm a dentist."
"Bella, he's a . . . scoundrel. And that's the nicest thing I can say about him."
"Do you honestly believe I don't already know that?" I question.
"And you are definitely not a scoundrel." He huffs. "You're in over your head here, Bella. The playing field is neither level nor fair."
"But I have you," I point out. "Together, we can fix this."
"I appreciate your optimism, but you should ask about my history of experiences going up against the King family's lawyers. You would fire me in a heartbeat," Jason reveals.
"I don't care about that."
"You should. Oh, Bella, you have no idea what you're asking from me. I wish I could tell you no and save us both so much trouble."
"But you won't. We're in this together?" I repeat.
"What if I told you the easiest way through this is to keep your head down, mouth shut, and not make waves? Not even the tiniest of ripples. Comply with everything he wants. Ignore everything that rankles you. He has you outmatched in every way: money, resources, connections, and experience."
"Not intelligence."
"As your lawyer, I'm telling you now, you won't win. You can't win. This isn't about what's just or right. It's about what he wants. It always is," Jason states adamantly.
"To answer your question, I would fire you for that advice."
"At least you're thinking clearly."
I release a heavy sigh. "I've never done anything the easy way, and my days of being compliant are over. I'll tell you one thing I'm certain about, I am going to win at whatever game he's playing."
"Impossible. You don't even know his endgame."
"I can keep up."
"How many steps ahead of you is he already? Hmmm?" Jason questions.
"A few," I admit reluctantly. "I'll catch up, then I'll be at least a step ahead."
"Your confidence is admirable. You'll need it to match his. He doesn't flinch."
"When did he purchase our building?" I ask.
"On January sixteenth, an all-cash offer was made and accepted the same day—"
"Victoria and I formed our partnership," I finish.
"Correct."
"I thought I met him for the first time at the family skate. I wonder if that's actually the first time we met or we met somewhere else?"
"What's a family skate?" Jason asks.
"The Winter Classic. It was an outdoor hockey game that they held in a football stadium—The Cotton Bowl. The family skate was the day before on New Year's Eve. It's when Alice shared in confidence that she's actually the majority owner of their companies."
"What? No. You must be mistaken," he says in disbelief.
"I'm not. She is. Alice told me herself, but Roy believes it's best not to make that information public."
"Of course he does."
"Alice has been instrumental in helping my mother arrange continued treatment after her cancer diagnosis. Roy has as well to an extent. She introduced us while we were at the family skate, and we even discussed the possibility of me becoming the team dentist. My parents are staying at Whitlock Ranch in Houston."
He groans. "Dear goodness, Bella. So, you're blurring all the lines. No sense of self-preservation or for anyone else."
"Jason. I would do anything to help my mother."
"He's counting on it."
"I told Alice not to consider us for the position of team dentist," I clarify.
"And she accepted that?"
"No. She said to hold off on making that decision. I have another question for you."
"Okay?"
"Do you know someone who could check our office space for hidden recording devices?"
"Oh shit."
"Yeah. So, what prompted my list of concerns was a meeting with Roy in the empty offices adjacent to ours."
"Roy came to your office?" Jason asks skeptically.
"Yeah, essentially, he tried to ambush me with information revealing how indebted I already am to him. I think it's likely that someone he's hired is listening or watching us, but I need proof. I didn't agree to have anything installed when we did our renovations. If we find recording devices, wouldn't those be illegal?"
"In patient rooms, yes, where there are expectations of privacy, but not in public office spaces. There are employee and customer right to privacy laws in place. However, since he's your landlord, you should have been notified at their installation with signage included and they can't be hidden. It's a . . . mistake, if that's what he's done."
"You and I both know it's no mistake on his part, but I plan on protecting my partner and employees. Keep going," I encourage.
"Video recording in public spaces is generally legal to prevent something like theft, but audio recording isn't since there is no consent between two unknowing parties. If he's involved in the conversation and recording, then it's legal. You only need one person's consent in Texas.
"And for the record, we will only be having conversations in secured locations, like if you're home or in my office from here on out. Even after we check your office space. It wouldn't hurt to check your home too. If we find any devices, do you want them left in place or removed? There are also jammers that can be added to prevent any recording. Those can be installed temporarily while you're in the space or until you decide to have them removed."
"I'll need to think about that. For some reason, I keep picturing myself dropping a gift-wrapped box full of whatever devices we find on Roy's desk and saying something like, 'your move.'"
"If we find them, you're not doing that."
"I want to."
"Am I the only reasonable one in this conversation?"
"Possibly."
"Stop poking the sleeping bear."
"Trust me, he's not sleeping. Is it possible for us to break the lease and leave the space?" I wonder.
"You don't have many options with the lease. You could sub-lease and find someone to take over the space. There's no renegotiating the terms since Roy doesn't negotiate or compromise."
"I don't know if I agree with that, but I wonder if Alice could, and we bypass him?"
"I'll look into it, but I would suspect he has somehow throttled her, if only temporarily since she hasn't taken the helm yet. Another lease option would be for you to do a buyout, but I wouldn't suggest it with the length of your term remaining."
If I asked Edward, I have no doubt I could have access to enough money for a buyout on our lease, but it's more the principle of having to pay anything to Roy, similar to the situation with Jacob. And I don't want to use any of Edward's money to fix either situation, as I did with Sam.
"Fuck. Speaking of terms, did you look into the business loan for the expansion?" I ask.
"You obviously know all three rivers of Three Rivers Bank and Trust lead to one person who personally approved your loan." He chuckles.
"I do."
"We're past the effective date," Jason explains. "It's legally binding for all parties and funds have been disbursed. They're in your account for the practice. Whether you like it or not, you're in business with him. I recommend using the funds to expand into the space. It's to your benefit to do so."
"What about that country club?"
"Roy owns it and—"
"He was there. Un-fucking-real," I state in disbelief.
"The security gatehouse log shows he entered the property two hours prior to your arrival that morning. It's my understanding that he works out with a personal trainer and has breakfast afterward in the restaurant on weekdays," Jason shares.
"He probably has the security footage."
"I suppose that's possible." He pauses. "If that's the case, then I think we know how Sam knew to look for his clubs in the lake. What . . . does he want?"
"At the moment, he claims Victoria."
"Is there something going on between them?"
"I don't know. There was. She threw the brakes on, and he can't or won't accept that. I would bet he's been invading her privacy since they met, and the same with mine. He knows more than he should about me prior to moving to Texas."
"Mmmm."
"He's also not happy that Alice is questioning their business dealings and that could be at my prompting. But it feels as if there's something else going on here. Something bigger. I just can't figure out what."
"Maybe he has something he's holding over Alice," Jason suggests.
"Could be." I know Edward asked me not to share anything about Carlisle with Jason, but it doesn't mean I'm not still curious about what's happening with him. "Were you able to find out anything about Carlisle?"
"Yes. We found a car registered to him at a Nashville impound lot and . . ."
"What?"
"He was taken into protective custody by the Davidson County Sheriff's office."
"What does that mean exactly? He was arrested?" I ask.
"No. In Nashville, authorities will take someone into protective custody with the option of treatment over punishment for violations of their open container law or public intoxication. That's only if an individual has no arrest record. But he has to voluntarily agree to treatment."
"And if he doesn't?"
"He's released."
"So, he was released?"
"Yes, but this is where his trail grows cold," Jason explains. "Yesterday morning, he arrived at the impound lot, but didn't pay the fees to reclaim his car. He left on foot and still hasn't returned for it. We don't know where he is at this point."
"He may not have any money on him." Or at all.
It's tempting to call the impound lot and pay the fees, but that probably makes me part of the problem too. If Carlisle has spent everything he has, I'm concerned about what he could do or where he's going next. Impound lots require cash payment and there is typically an ATM machine available to access any bank account or cash advance from a credit card. I'm not sure of Carlisle's next move if he didn't have either of those options to use.
"Are there any casinos in Nashville?" I say, thinking out loud when I should probably keep that to myself.
"Uhh . . . let me check." I listen as Jason quickly taps on the keys of his computer. "No casinos in the state of Tennessee. A neighboring state would have them, but it looks as if the closest is over two hours away."
"Unfortunately, it's been over a full day since then. Carlisle could have negotiated a ride with someone and be anywhere by now."
"I bet he's still in Nashville somewhere," Jason concludes. "Does he have any family or friends there?"
"Oh my goodness." I gasp when a very real possibility comes to mind. "There's a good chance of friends since he's well connected everywhere, but definitely family. Edward's brother-in-law—Emmett's parents and brother live there."
Holy shit.
Why didn't I remember that connection?
I recall how smitten Al was with Emmett's mother, Lucy, after his drive-by "audition," baking for her when she was visiting Rose and Emmett at their home during this past Thanksgiving break. Lucy is a celebrity in the food world. Al watches her cooking shows religiously and has all her cookbooks. I also remember Edward saying that Emmett's parents and brother were in Aspen while he was visiting me in Seattle after Mom's surgery.
The more connections I recall, the more confident I am that Carlisle probably knows them well and would reach out, sharing whatever story would gain him access to whatever he needs. I don't remember what Emmett's father or brother do for a living, but Lucy's wealth can probably be found through an internet search, which means millions. That fact alone is enough to draw Carlisle to them, specifically her.
I don't think she is necessarily close with Esme. So, Lucy may not know they're separated. Or that Carlisle has a gambling problem.
"Bella?"
"I'm sorry. What did you say? I missed it."
"I said that we'll be notified when he returns for his vehicle, but we have another option before then. It's . . . a gray area."
"What is it?"
"Do you want a tracker placed on the vehicle?"
"Yes," I state without hesitation, but second thoughts begin to fill my head.
Is this an invasion of Carlisle's privacy? Probably, but if I can give Esme, Rose, or Edward peace of mind, shouldn't I? But an even bigger question—is Roy right that I'm more similar to him than I'm willing to admit?
"Okay, I'll pass that along."
I guess if we're adding a tracker we may as well take another step in the same direction to find some confirmation that he's at least okay.
"While I could be wrong, my gut is telling me I know where he is. Let's try to locate a private address for Lucy McCarty. It may not be easy to find. I don't remember her husband's first name, but they have an adult son, Felix. That's all I can recall, but something tells me we'll find Carlisle there."
"You got it. We can work with that."
"Thank you, Jason."
"No problem. I'll let you know when we have new information."
"Okay. Um . . . there's also something else."
"Go ahead."
The oven timer beeps loudly, indicating my pizza is finished baking. I stand, walking into the kitchen with Scout following behind.
"Edward and I . . ." I begin, then update him on our marital status. "It was my idea. We . . . eloped . . . recently."
I wait for a response, but when he doesn't reply, I check my phone screen to make sure the call is still connected. It is.
"Jason?"
"You're serious?"
"Yes. We're married. We just returned from Las Vegas," I share, removing the piping hot pizza from the oven carefully and onto a waiting cutting board to cool.
"And it was your idea. I think I'm missing the punchline. Do you need it annulled?" he teases. At least he better be teasing.
"No! Of course not." I laugh.
"Hmmm. So, what do you need exactly?"
"My name changed. I'm going to hyphenate, adding Cullen to my last name."
"Ah, there's my part. I'll take care of it." I can hear papers shuffling on his end. "Swan-Cullen? C-U-L-L-E-N?"
"Correct."
"Got it. As your friend, you have my utmost congratulations. Please share those with your new husband on my behalf."
"Thank you. I will. We're both changing our names, but Edward has his own lawyer."
"Ah my competition, if I don't do my job?" he taunts.
"Hardly. You're stuck with me."
Jason chuckles. "I'm surprised he's adding Swan."
"We agreed it is the right choice for us going forward."
"Does he . . . does he make you happy, Bella?"
"Eternally," I state.
"Good." His voice softens. "That's what I always wanted for you."
"It's funny how things work out or . . . don't," I say, referring to the change in our relationship, which seems like such a long time ago. "Sometimes people are better off as friends."
"I agree." There's a long pause before he replies, "I should let you go."
While his comment is probably innocent and he's referring to our call, a part of me wonders if he has regrets about ending our relationship. I did at the time, but he didn't leave me much choice, and I definitely don't now. Everything worked out as it should. Jason is still in my life, but in a different capacity, and I couldn't be happier with Edward. If anything, I'm grateful that our relationship ended as it did.
Life had bigger plans for me, and with Edward, I'm realizing more of them every day.
"Thanks, Jason. For everything. I always appreciate your help. I'm hoping to get the upper hand with Roy. Let me know if your guy finds any surveillance equipment hidden in our offices."
"Yeah. Sure. I'll be in touch," he promises quickly, before ending the call.
